the taste of crappy wine
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: Charlie receives a bottle of wine for Christmas and decides to share it with his boyfriend.


_"The best thing to hold on to in life is each other"_

_- Audrey Hepburn_

…

The taste of white wine burnt the back of Draco's throat and he coughed, choking on the taste; Charlie had warned him that the wine was cheap and tasteless, but he hadn't expected something _quite _as awful as what he had drank.

"Sorry about that," Charlie said quietly as Draco handed him the glass, "I did warn you, though. It's why I never drink anymore, you know. Can't even afford good wine nowadays, so what's the point?"

He walked back towards the tiny kitchen, giving Draco an apologetic smile, to which the younger man only waved off.

"I'm not even really sure where I got that shit, anyway. Not the store, I don't think? Maybe a Christmas present? Huh, I really don't remember, actually." Charlie shrugged, leaving Draco to sit calmly in the living room with the taste of crappy wine in his mouth, mixed with something he couldn't quite identify, but was probably the cause of the painful burning sensation in his mouth.

Draco felt like there was something caught in his throat, and he randomly thought of the old, probably incorrect statement he'd heard from one of Charlie's fellow dragon tamers, the one about swallowing up to eight spiders a year.

"You okay, Draco?" Charlie called from the kitchen as Draco felt his face go red, beginning to choke up, though he couldn't imagine why. The wine had been bad but not _that _bad.

"Draco? Dray?" Charlie asked again, in a louder tone this time; all Draco could think of, though, was _don't call me Dray, dammit_.

(_Am I choking? Fuck, am I choking? How in the hell…?)_

"Draco, is something wrong? Are you okay? Draco, fucking talk to me for once, will you?" Charlie came back into the room with a piece of parchment clutched in one hand, as Draco fell over, face still red and beginning to seize up.

_(Fuck, fuck, fuck. Breath, just fucking breath. Why can't I breathe anymore? Fucking hell, why can't I breathe anymore? Charlie, help! Help me!_)

"I got a letter from…Draco? Oh, Merlin, Draco, are you okay? What happened?" Charlie rushed over and grabbed his boyfriend by the shoulders, a panicked look crossing his face as he clutched Draco, shaking the twenty year in concern. "Draco, oh fucking hell, was it the wine?"

_(Geeze, are you ever fucking dense, Charlie Weasley? Of course I'm not okay! Just fucking help me, you ginger moron.)_

Charlie scrambled to his feet, rushing over to where the (admittedly very shitty) bottle of wine had been left, turning it over to peer at the label before uncorking the top and taking a sniff.

"I think it's been poisoned, Dray. Holy shit, was someone trying to poison us? Who in the hell would want to poison us, Draco?" Charlie gave Draco a wild look as he rushed over to his poorly stocked potions cabinet, looking for a bezoar.

(_I can't even begin to fucking imagine who would want to poison me. I mean, it's not like I'm such a wonderful person, right?)_

"Here!" Charlie cried, returning with the stone in his hands, shoving the thing down Draco's throat. "Just stay calm, Dray. It's a good thing this poison seems to be slow reacting, unlike the one my brother accidentally swallowed a few years back."

_(Whoops. That was me, actually. I never did tell you the truth about Sixth Year, did I, Charlie? Ah, well, you don't need to know now.)_

The stone was hard in Draco's mouth, and he struggled to breath around the stone, but it was very quickly clear that he was no longer in danger of dying from poison.

"Are you okay now, Dray? Should I Floo St. Mungo's? Oh, fucking hell, who could have possibly ever have wanted to do this to you? And we were going to go visit the dragons tomorrow, weren't we?" Charlie had already hurried over to his fireplace, bent over on hard brick and breathing heavily as he threw the powder in.

Draco's breath was coming in hard, harsh breaths, his chest slowly returning back to its normal beating pattern as the world swam around in a ragged motion, the sky growing dark as he heard Charlie yelling at him to _stay away, you dumbass._

"Dray! Dray, come on, don't be an idiot! You have to stay away so I can get you to St. Mungo's. Oh, don't be such a hardhead, just stay away, you goddamn moron."

His last thought before slipping into unconsciousness was _don't call me Dray, you fucking ginger._

And then he was out, being held in his boyfriend's arms as Charlie attempted to drag the Slytherin towards his fireplace, which was still roaring with green flames.


End file.
